


Scars

by RealityXIllusion



Series: Gintama-One Shots [5]
Category: Gintama
Genre: Gen, Gintoki did not have a easy childhood, Gintoki-Centric, Hurt!Gintoki, Kid!Katsura Kotarou, Kid!Sakata Gintoki, Kid!TakasugiShinsuke, OC's needed to play the role of Villans, Platonic Soulmates, Romantic Soulmates, Sakata Gintoki Needs A Hug, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:33:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21883060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RealityXIllusion/pseuds/RealityXIllusion
Summary: According to Sensei, these soul marks, they were proof of a strong and destined bond between people, they were essentially soulmates, something which could be either platonic or romantic. If he was being honest with himself… the idea of having soulmates, of having a family predetermined… he kind of liked it.
Relationships: Sakata Gintoki & Yoshida Shouyou
Series: Gintama-One Shots [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1576336
Comments: 5
Kudos: 90





	Scars

**Author's Note:**

> The idea of Soulmates is really interesting to me, I love all of the tropes!

The first time he noticed them, really noticed them, wasn’t until a few days after Sensei found him. They were in some small, no-named village, and Sensei managed to procure them a room at the local inn. While Sensei was down the hall speaking with the owner of the building, Gintoki was told to head to their room and clean up before dinner. He had a feeling it was because of the looks he was given as they were walking through the village. Apparently, dirt and grim on top of dried blood were unsettling to people. He hadn’t been sure of how to work the odd-looking bath and water nozzles, so he settled for a bucket of warm water and a rag he found under the sink.

That was the first time he took a look at his own body.

He panicked seeing the marks, scrubbing until his skin was red and stinging but the marks remained. There were eleven of them, he checked himself in the mirror, counting each and every odd marking he found. He had no idea what they were, but they weren’t coming off, they were odd symbols, clustered together and connected by what looked to be thin lines swirling around each of them.

It wasn’t until almost a year later, long after they left that village, that he accidentally saw a few similar markings on Sensei’s arms. They were working on remodeling some old dojo into their new home, a place they could live while also functioning as a school. Sensei had rolled up his sleeves as the temperature rose, they were working on fixing the flooring. Gintoki froze when he saw them, they had three of them that were the same. There was a fourth one on Sensei’s arm but it was different from any Gintoki had. He wanted to ask if Sensei had any other markings, he wanted to ask if having these strange designs on one’s skin was normal, but he never got the chance.

Over and over again they went from one village to the next, rumors of a corpse-eating demon following them no matter how far they went.

Sensei assured him it was nothing to worry about. Gintoki wanted to believe him… that was the first and only time he would later recall that Sensei had ever been wrong. It was also the first time that he realized the strange markings on his body were a sense of comfort to him, he didn't realize until it was too late.

He was walking back to the rundown inn they were staying at when it happened.

A group of men, Gintoki could smell the alcohol long before they were near, cornered him. It was a natural reaction to try to pull out his sword, technically Sensei's but it was his now, to defend himself. But then he remembered how sad Sensei had looked anytime he tried to pull out the sword whenever strangers came too close. Gintoki hesitantly left the sword in its scabbard. 

It infuriated him how easily he was taken down without the aid of a sword.

He snarled at them, biting them anytime they came too close. One of them hit him in the jaw, another taking a dirty looking cloth and shoving it into his mouth before he could say a word. Gintoki writhed on the ground, trying to loosen their hold on him to escape.

“This is him, the corpse-eater right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, he’s got the blood-red eyes and silvery-white hair.”

“The fucker actually came to our village, Jesus, what was he planning?”

“Does it matter? Just kill him and get it over with.”

“Why am I the one who has to kill him?”

“What makes you think I can! I got a kid his age!”

“Kakaru you do it, we all know you’ve been wanting to find the kid and off him for a while now.”

“The kid showed up at my village months ago, then immediately afterward my village is invaded! He brought death to all of them, like hell I’ll leave him alive to do it to some other poor unsuspecting village.”

“So you’ll do it?”

“Of course, I can take him to the old meeting hall, no one goes there anymore.”

Kakaru brought the torch closer to his face, grinning widely as the flames grew stronger, “Demons shouldn’t go around pretending to be one of us.”

Gintoki couldn’t move, Kakaru was using all of his weight, pressing his knee down on his arm and keeping him from getting away.

Time seemed to pass by in a blur after that.

The next time he was able to focus clearly on his surroundings Gintoki saw Kakaru standing before him, glaring at him. Kakaru snorted loudly, his foot coming down and pressing harshly against his side. Gintoki screamed, choking on his spit as he tried pushing the foot off of him. Nothing he said or did could get Kakaru to let him go, Gintoki couldn’t hold back his scream as the torch was lowered and pressed into his side. His top had been pushed up out of the way, but parts of it caught bits of the flying embers. He tried begging despite how it made him feel, he just wanted the pain to  _ stop _ .

“Why the hell does a thing like you have those marks? And so many too… I feel bad for those sons of bitches. Being stuck with you, they probably have some sort of death warrant hanging over them now.”

Gintoki whined, not understanding what Kakaru was raving about but trying to let the man keep on talking, hoping it would prove as some kind of distraction. Just enough so that he could try to escape.

“They’re lucky I’m getting rid of you now.” Kakaru finally- _ finally  _ pulled the torch away, standing up and taking a step back, grinning as blood began to inch its way across the ground, “Losing that much blood already? Just from a bit of a burn? You won’t even make it to nighttime.”

Gintoki flinched as Kakaru spat at him, his spit landing on his cheek. Kakaru kicked him on his other side, leaving Gintoki shaking all over, wheezing. He wasn’t sure what happened next, Gintoki laid there, awaiting the next blow only it never came. He kept his eyes squeezed shut, no noises coming to him the longer he laid there. Warily, he opened one eye and then the other, looking around the room.

It was empty. He was the only one there.

Shaking, Gintoki dragged himself over to the wall, using it for support to push himself to his feet. It hurt, the pain nearly sending him back down to his knees. It was only because of his stubborn nature that Gintoki fought to keep standing, he had to get out of there before that guy or any of the others decided to come back. If that guy, Kakaru decided to return with the others then there was no chance of him escaping. He had to find some way to get to Sensei, he didn’t want any of them to try going after Sensei because of him...

He couldn’t bring himself to look at his side, too scared to see how bad the damage was.

He kept once hand pressed against his side, choking back his cry as he stumbled toward the exit, he knew enough about wounds that if it was bleeding you needed to try and stop it. It hurt worse than when they first burned him, and the room he was in reeked of burnt flesh. Hunching over, Gintoki threw up what little he had eaten earlier that day. The sudden movement proving to be too much, his legs gave out and he would’ve fallen into his vomit had someone not quickly caught him by wrapping their arms around his midsection. Gintoki cried out as they pressed against his wound, the agony flaring up and causing him to jerk forward as his stomach empties its contents once more.

“Gintoki?! Gintoki. Shh, shh you’re alright. You’re alright it’s just me.”

Gintoki shuddered, struggling to lift his head and turn it to meet Yoshida-sensei’s eyes, “...Sensei?”

“What… what happened here?”

Gintoki hissed as he was turned, set down against the wall as Sensei knelt down in front of him. The look on Sensei’s face was not one he had ever seen before, Gintoki didn’t like it. He preferred it when Sensei was smiling, the look he wore right now… it made it hard for Gintoki to recognize him. Sensei’s mouth was moving, talking to him and his posture changing, growing urgent but Gintoki couldn’t make out what he was saying to him.

Trusting that Sensei would keep him safe, Gintoki allowed his body to give in to the exhaustion and rest as it so desperately needed.

He woke up almost a week later, being carried on Sensei’s back as they were walking down some path through a forest. 

His side still hurt, but it wasn’t as bad as before. If he concentrated, then he could actually ignore the throbbing and occasional sharp pain. Sensei’s fingers were digging into his legs with how tightly he was holding onto him but Gintoki couldn’t bring himself to say anything about it. He was still tired, and he felt icky as he realized the reason why he felt so cold was because of the sweat cooling on his skin. He knew they were no longer in that village, Gintoki would’ve been content with just the two of them walking through the forest. It was… okay. Just the two of them, Gintoki didn’t have to worry about dealing with anyone who would know of him as the corpse-eater. Time passed like that for a while, eventually, Sensei began to let him walk on his own, the first time they came across a stream and they entered it to bathe, Sensei stared at him the entire time. Gintoki stood in the water, his fingers ghosting over the burn scar that took up the majority of his right side… his marks were gone. All of them. Gintoki remembered what Kakaru had said to him, what he thought about him having marks… Gintoki stayed silent. His hand dropped to his side as he turned and finished bathing himself. Sensei didn’t say anything so Gintoki didn’t either.

It was almost two years later that they finally found someplace far away from some village for Sensei to start his school, any of the students that wanted to attend would have to walk a few miles to reach the dojo but Sensei had explained that he did not want to live in the village. Gintoki had a feeling that the decision had to do with him, but he was fine with it either way… and that was how he met Katsura and Takasugi.

It wasn’t until long after they had to pack up and leave the originally finished dojo for one further away as the village chased them out once rumors of the corpse-eating demon living in the dojo popped up that Gintoki learned what the markings were called.

He found out by overhearing one of the kids that followed them, Katsura, lecturing the others on the importance of soul bonds. Less than half of the students fled with them, but Sensei didn’t seem upset about it so Gintoki wasn’t either. According to Katsura, it was rare for someone to have more than one or two marks, Gintoki didn’t know what that meant for him seeing how he had eleven last he saw. He tried to be in the area anytime one of the other kids asked Katsura about the marks, eventually, the others grew excited enough that even Sensei began to discuss them during class. Gintoki began to both dread and look forward to the classes.

He wasn’t keen on learning all the nonsense Sensei said he needed to know, but he was almost desperate to learn about these soul marks. About what they mean, and what it could mean now that his marks were gone, taken away from him.

Katsura and the other kid, Takasugi, both had the same marks as Sensei and him.

The only difference was they shared their fourth mark with him, while they only have three of the markings in common with Sensei.

According to Sensei, these soul marks, they were proof of a strong and destined bond between people, they were essentially soulmates, something which could be either platonic or romantic.

If he was being honest with himself… the idea of having soulmates, of having a family predetermined… he kind of liked it. Only now… now he couldn’t have them. He lost them after getting ganged up on by those men, leaving him with nothing more than a scar where his soulmates marks should be. How was he supposed to face his soulmates? What if they thought he had burned them off himself because he didn’t want them? He knew what his marks looked like, he spent as much time as possible drawing them all down into his notebook under the pretense of taking notes. He wasn’t the best drawer, but the symbols were basic enough for him to copy down. Every time he redrew them he felt as though it brought him closer to his soulmates, he felt more comfortable seeing them… it didn’t matter if his soulmates would never recognize him, he’d know who they were, he would know and he’d keep them safe. 

No matter what.

**Author's Note:**

> This prompt is taken from the 2019 Whumptober prompt list created by @la-vie-en-whump on Tumblr.
> 
> Oooh, it's so-so tempting to write more for this, perhaps at a later date because I have so many ideas to go along with this!


End file.
